


a rush and a push

by lennonbum



Category: Morrissey - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennonbum/pseuds/lennonbum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gorgeous?" Morrissey lilted, amused. "How many hours have you known me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	a rush and a push

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I have returned! I noticed that there were zero works for Damoz on AO3, which disappointed me tremendously. This here is greatly inspired by a fic I found on tumblr, written by the great and beautiful user frightening-verse. I admire their writing style and kind of-sort of stemmed the plot of this fic from theirs, but I mean no harm in doing so! The lack of Damoz fanfiction has booted me and bruised and hurt me. (But, that's how people grow up.) Enjoy.

From about one thirty to five o'clock, Morrissey remained in his hotel room alone, the glow of love still very much alive within him. He'd been studying the man's business card with a passionate closeness, taking all of five hours to muster up the courage to call the telephone number he held in his hands. 

"Hello?"

"Hello, stranger," Morrissey hummed, smirking. "Oh, hey, you," the barber mused, and Morrissey raised an eyebrow at the lilt of the younger man's voice. "Mmm, hi. Listen, I was thinking just now, why don't you come back once you've finished with whatever it is you're doing? I'm the last door on the left hall, seventh floor, in case you forgot." Damon was quiet for a moment, then clicked his tongue. "The Dorchester, right?" Morrissey's heart leapt, and he sat upright in bed. "Yes! Er, I mean, yes, the Dorchester. When will you be here?" The singer suddenly adopted the anticipation and excitement of a young child.

"I'm only just closing up shop. I shouldn't be longer than an hour." Morrissey bit into his bottom lip, grinning like a madman, thinking surely Damon fancied him insane at this point. 

"Wonderful. I'll…I'll be here." Without hesitation, Morrissey ended the call and halfway sprinted to the marble bathroom. He examined his hair and the state of his fingernails, he freshened his cologne, and even made time for what had to have been the quickest shower of his life.

After blow drying his hair back into its usual pompadour, Morrissey pulled the curtains shut and poured himself a generous amount of Grey Goose and waited, though hardly patiently. 

Forty minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace, when at last an uplifting knock echoed through the room. Morrissey jolted up and took a brief moment to collect himself before swinging open the heavy wooden door. "Good evening," the singer crooned, stepping aside to make way for the barber. "Hello, gorgeous." Damon raised an eyebrow, and Morrissey at once felt a wave of relief— Damon and he shared intentions. "Gorgeous?" Morrissey lilted, amused. "How many hours have you known me?" 

Damon took the singer by the waist and shoved him into the mattress. "You could've kept your clothes off, y'know. I wasn't gone that long." 

Morrissey rolled his eyes and pulled Damon onto him. "I did think about that. But, eh. They're coming off now, yes?" 

Damon had hardly even laid a finger upon Morrissey, and yet the singer was already flushed and moaning. 

"You missed me," Damon sneered. 

"Don't keep me waiting. Get off me." 

The barber chuckled, and rolled off of the singer. "Did I turn you off?" Morrissey shook his head, and with delicate fingers, unfastened Damon's belt and trousers, exposing his straining heat. "You missed /me/," Morrissey observed, smirking. Damon furrowed his brow. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." 

The singer kissed down Damon's torso, his beautiful warm skin once again getting the better of Morrissey. "God. Suck it, please." 

Morrissey sniggered, planted a tiny kiss upon Damon's hipbone, and closed his plush, pink lips around the head of the barber's cock. Damon groaned, his muscles tensing. Morrissey hummed contently, letting Damon's erect member brush against the back of his throat as he took him. 

"I think I'm in love with you," Damon sighed, bucking his hips forward. Involuntarily, Morrissey bobbed his head softly, hollowing his cheeks as he glanced up at Damon. Their eyes met, and Morrissey's heart leapt. 

Practically entranced, Morrissey allowed himself to become lost, his eyes falling shut as he fellated the striking man beneath him, only returning to consciousness when Damon's thighs began to quiver. Morrissey pulled away, releasing the barber's ever throbbing cock from his lips. The singer planted a sloppy kiss on the tip of Damon's member, making the younger fellow knead Morrissey's shoulders anxiously.

Morrissey rose, and smiled coyly to himself once he'd caught sight of Damon's face, flushed and panting. "Mm. You really are charming, sir," the singer purred, and Damon's eyes shifted to look at him. "You stopped," he gasped, biting into his lower lip. "Yes, I did. I wouldn't like you to come that way, dear." Damon looked slightly distant. 

"Another way," Morrissey drawled, tracing a finger up Damon's stomach. The barber's emerald eyes glossed over as he realized what it was the singer was asking of him. "Of course," he breathed, the corners of his mouth curved into what looked like an accomplished smirk. How cute, pondered Morrissey. "—of course." 

Damon outstretched his arms, taking hold of Morrissey by the waist. Morrissey straddled him, kissed him, and slowly began to lower himself upon the barber's heat, his mouth falling slightly open as he tilted his head back. He heard Damon groan underneath him, and no sooner did the singer suddenly feel a spark of ecstasy tremor through his frame as the head of Damon's dick rubbed against his prostate. Damon's beautiful hands came to rest at Morrissey's hips, and as the singer started to rock back and forth upon his partner, Damon surely began to feel something too. 

After several minutes of adjusting to one another, they had increased their pace and Damon was forcefully slamming into Morrissey's tight entrance and both were moaning and swearing so loud, Morrissey began to wonder exactly when the guests next door would call the front desk to complain. 

Morrissey was babbling pleasured nonsense, and he only realized when Damon laughed softly at him. "Babe, you're so pretty," Damon leered breathlessly, his left hand trailing up Morrissey's tummy and stopping at the singer's nipple, which he teased gently with two fingers, making Morrissey whine. The barber felt the elder man tighten around him, and Morrissey squealed, grabbing Damon's shoulders as he determinedly rode his cock. 

"I'm about to—" Morrissey mewled, and Damon furrowed his brow as he shoved his hips forward, intent on achieving his own release as well, and he would achieve it, just as Morrissey clenched around him one final time and came over his chest. The very sight of his new lover's climax sent a shiver throughout his body, and suddenly all he felt was complete and utter adoration. He released inside of Morrissey, and the singer cried out, his voice becoming slightly hoarse from wailing, and at last Morrissey's hold on Damon's shoulders loosened. 

Morrissey rose, flinching only slightly. He curled into Damon's arms, and the barber held him close, kissing his sweat-licked forehead. 

"Oh, God," Damon grunted, snickering. "fucking marry me." Morrissey hummed happily to himself and nibbled at Damon's collarbone, saying nothing. He loved someone, and for once, Morrissey was certain they loved him, too. He had no reason to speak, not anymore.


End file.
